Elvish Grape Juice
by LadyPorpoise
Summary: Gimli learns about elven wine: enchanted grape juice. But still a perfect chance to redeem himself after Rohan.


_A/N Those who are favoriting me or following me, ignore the "Concerning Ears" alert. I posted it then thought against it so I deleted it. Here is something better._

 _I will never consume alcohol. So this, is an alternate view on elven wine. Regarding the no smoking policy elves have when interacting with Gandalf/Aragorn/Gimli, they must know something about the health effects. I'm not bashing, just stating facts._

* * *

Gimli was not sure what the elf-prince was doing. Legolas said he was getting something for them to celebrate the dwarf's visit. What that was, Gimli was forced to wait as patiently as a dwarf could. Especially since Legolas had disturbingly convinced him to not smoke.

"You should see what lungs look like if one of your kin unexpectedly dies. It is a horrible sight. And do you wonder why we cough when in a fire or room full of smoke? You must do some research, my dear friend."

Gimli did think about it. And he did not like it.

Legolas was odd, to put it simply. Humorous and childlike, but odd. But that ought to be expected after what he saw concerning the wood-elves. Legolas took insults rather well too. Gimli learned how he does it after meeting his second older brother, who's hearing was damaged long ago from the screeching of orcs while in a sealed chamber. The second-prince's speech was altered as a result from hearing words wrong. Gimli still had to laugh when the brother had called Legolas 'Legless' many times over. Or calling him a gwiber instead of 'gwinig'.

"Ah! Good, I hope I did not keep you overlong!" Called Legolas as he walked into the room, carrying elven wine bottles.

"Not too long." Gimli answered gruffly, "What have you there?"

"Dorwinion! Last of the shipment I recieved as a gift from my father and mother."

"Oh, no, I am not going to consume any of that. It's the most potent stuff you have out there, yes?"

The olive skinned lord kept smiling, tilting his head to the side.

"Gimli, Gimli, Gimli, what do you know of elven wine?"

The dwarf frowned, "I know it requires the constitution of a mithril dragon to keep your wits up, otherwise you become brainless like a fungus."

Legolas laughed, "Oh, what clever words, my lord! But you got it all wrong."

Another thing: when you are an elf-friend, you get the truth about things concerning elves instead of myths and foolish rumors.

Legolas opened one of the bottles, "Indeed we age our wines like all do...but it never ferments like mannish wine. It stays fresh like the day the grapes were pressed for their juice."

"Elvish enchantment! I knew that was where you were going with this."

"Yes, it is a form of enchantment, similar to that of the lady Galadriel's girdle over the Golden Wood." The elf began pouring the grape juice, since that was all it was in Gimli's mind, "It refreshes you, Gimli, sustains you. Restores health even." Legolas held the chalice to the dwarf, still grinning, "Best part: indulge in all you want, and you will not forget the night prior."

"Sounds boring."

"Ah, wrong again."

"Seems I am wrong on a lot of things this day. Now correct me and don't get cocky or smart with me."

"Explain why Bilbo was able to subdue our guard and free your brethren?"

Gimli blinked, "So this can knock you out still?"

"We have two types: the one that makes you feel warm and full and lull you to rest as if you have attended a feast...the other, simply to please the tongue. What I brought for us, is the former."

Gimli blinked again, eying the prince critically, "Do you mean to challenge me to a game with your fairy drink?"

Legolas made a face, "Only fair, Gimli. I was forced to consume that vile ale in Rohan and I still won. Perhaps you might best me at my own?"

Gimli was warming up to the idea, "Oh you are risking a lot here, laddie. But I accept your challenge for revenge's sake!"

Legolas lifted his chalise up, "To fair life and good health.

Gimli toasted as well.

* * *

Gimli snored, loudly. He was curled up in his seat hugging and drooling on a pillow. He snorted and woke up with a yawn. His belly was full and he felt energized.

Wait...something was missing. There was no headache! And how many bottles did he drink?

...Five.

Oh Mahtan, this was glorious. He did not feel sick like he normally did after a night of revelry. Well if he remembered how much of the grape juice he had...

Gimli remembered feeling drowsy, comfortably so. Legolas was humming innocently, hugging his own pillow. Gimli remembered Legolas just drifting off to sleep right there. Gimli had two sips more before also going to nap.

Speaking of Legolas, the elf was still sleeping and looking like an elfling.

Gimli started chuckling, as quiet as he could, "Remember the day that a dwarf stayed awake longer than an elf in a drinking contest and woke sooner than his opponent. Don't wake up yet, laddie, I got to write a letter to Aragorn about this."

"Sugarrrrr..."


End file.
